


leak in the boat (a winter's interlude)

by guide_to_the_galaxy



Category: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Brotherhood, Brotherly Love, Family, Family Feels, Farmhouse, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, and changed some things, in which jo goes a little post-series, recovery fic, who doesn't love a good ol farmhouse fic? bc i sure love a good ol farmhouse fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:55:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26002270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guide_to_the_galaxy/pseuds/guide_to_the_galaxy
Summary: In the very end of it all, they leave the city.Time slows down as the fallen leaves leave trees barren and winter rolls in, bringing with it a long road of recovery, revelation and discovery ahead.In which the Hamato family comes to grips with their destiny, and the aftermath, in a little farmhouse Upstate.
Relationships: April O'Neil & Raphael (TMNT), Donatello & Leonardo & Michelangelo & April O'Neil & Raphael (TMNT), Donatello & Raphael (TMNT), Leonardo & Raphael (TMNT), Michelangelo & Raphael (TMNT), Michelangelo & Splinter (TMNT)
Comments: 51
Kudos: 159





	1. little brown traincar

**Author's Note:**

> So yall know I had to do a lil post-series fic for this family. I changed a lil bit of canon and decided that while they escaped Shredder, he was not completely defeated because, you know, let's stretch this out a bit. Please enjoy these upcoming chapter/drabbles! And remember to #saverottmnt!

In the end, they leave the city. The world around them is just starting to realign, and the human world is just starting to become aware that maybe being so unbothered about weird otherworldly beings lurking around may not have been ideal- so, they leave the city.

Of course there’s other reasons to leave; their bodies hurt like hell and their home is quite literally in shambles. They’ll deal with all of...  _ that _ situation in the long, long weeks to come, but right now the leaves are falling, mostly all off the trees, and maybe it’ll be alright to let go for just a little while. 

Draxum has his own self reflecting to do, has to get his priorities in order and right a whole shitton of wrongs, and Splinter parts from him in a sweet, lingering embrace, warmth, forgiveness and gratitude communicated and left between the two of them. And somehow their little rag tag family feels a bit smaller when Draxum steps through his portal with a sense of resignation to him. 

As for Splinter, he passes out before they can even get the van all packed up, Mikey following in suit- not as small as he was all the years ago when he’d plop down and fall asleep across his father’s chest, but feeling just as safe. 

And it flurries, making the air quieter and the world slower, and their van warmer. 

It’s just Raph and Leo up front; Raph needs something to distract his head and driving gives him the solace, and Leo never really sleeps, and needs to be next to his brother in the least obvious way possible. 

The sun’s setting, orange and purple in the distance, and Leo sinks deeply and warmly into his hoodie, his feet up on the dash and his nose in a book he’s not even focused on. And maybe it’s obvious, because Raph glances over at him a couple of times, and snickers, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel. 

“So….” he drags out, twisting his lips, “Exactly how many times’re you gonna read that page?” 

“No fucking clue what this book is even about,” Leo laughs, in a quiet way that just spills out from him, tossing the book to the side. 

_ “Yeah….  _ thought so.”

In the back, April, head on Donnie’s lap, is scrolling through TikTok rather numbly and showing Don, like, the 50th ‘secret gems of nyc’ video because they’re both just coming down from the adrenaline. 

And in this small interlude of just…quiet, Leo catches a glimpse of Raph in his periphery and gets to noticing the sadness there-  _ feels  _ it, actually. It’s deep and icy and it burns. 

Maybe he shouldn’t pry at that just yet, Leo thinks. They’re all so tired, and there’s still so much unsaid, and maybe it’s better that it stays that way just a little while longer. 

But then, impulsively, Leo opens his mouth anyway, “You did it again…”

He lets his words kinda hang in the slightly cramped space of the front of their van. Just to see if Raph really got what he meant by that. 

Raph doesn’t say anything though, his head turning slightly to Leo to at least let him know he  _ heard  _ it, his eyes falling briefly. 

_ “You  _ did it Raph,” Leo repeats, knowing his brother, knowing he’s trying everything right now to  _ not  _ give himself a break, and determined not to let Raph do that to himself, “And it’s stupid that you had to do it alone but...you do it-  _ all the time.  _ And I guess I wanna say ‘thank you’, but that seems stupid too because- I don’t wanna...I don’t _ want  _ you to have to do it...alone _.” _

The van slows to a halt as a train passes, the ground beneath rumbling, and the windshield wipers push off soft snow. 

Raph purses his lips, and finally builds up the courage to glance over at Leo, his eyes swimming. 

“I should’ve…” he chokes, hanging his head as the train continues to pass, and he keeps his voice low, “I shouldn’t have left them...should’a trusted you guys more.” 

“No, it was the right call,” Leo says, sagging a little in his seat, “That’s what I’m tryna say, Raph- you made...all’a the right calls. ‘N I’m sorry. That you had to hear my bullshit about it. I was pretty uh... _ pre-tty  _ useless.” 

Leo stares at his hands, scraped up and burned a little, and feels himself getting lost easily in the feeling, in the memory. Raph’s hand rests on Leo’s shoulder, though, bringing him back from the mess of his thoughts. 

And the weight of his brother’s hand says enough, speaks all of the things Raph can’t quite articulate right now, his own brain swimming in the remnants of this whole situation.

Still, he gives it an honest try, shoving Leo’s shoulder, “I was really tryna not to cry again, man,” he mumbles, wiping at his snout, but he smiles, and certain persistent weight lifts.

“Thank you…” Raph says, “For, like...believing in me-? But, Leo, ya not useless, ya always gonna have a place in the team- in the  _ family.”  _

Leo snorts, shoving his brother back, “Oh hell  _ yeah  _ I have a place in the family- who else would clean up once ‘n awhile? Or boost team morale?”

Snickering, Raph shakes his head, “Aight now ya head is inflating...I take it back- ya useless.”

With  _ all  _ the dramatics, Leo gasps in mock offense, placing his hand over his plastron, the other hand turning the knob to the radio, “And your  _ music _ is boring as hell- if I’m gonna stay awake the next bajillion hours I need 80s, baby. Japanese 80s hits.”

“Do what ya want I'm zoning out anyway,” Raph says, waving dismissively. 

“You’re driving- you can’t be-  _ dad…Dee-?  _ Raph’s tryna crash us.”

“Oh god please do,” Donnie calls from the back of the van, “I was kinda hoping to be put out of my misery, like, four hours ago, but here I am…”

Raph’s face crinkles up, and they call that his ‘disapproving mom face’. 

“Jesus chri- Don, I’m not crashing just so you can fulfill a death wish.”

Nobody can see it, but Leo’s sure Don’s flipping them off. It makes Leo laugh, like maybe things are okay. 

The train finally passes, the van rolls onward, further and further away from the aftermath. 

* * *

The farmhouse is old. Like ‘the invention of the vacuum cleaner’ old. But it’s got this warmness to it that feels somehow already like home. 

It’s nightfall by the time they reach it, the headlights to the van casting dim light on the gravel road, the flurrying snow like little dust falling. 

And they’re all bone tired; Raph throws Mikey over one shoulder and holds their father in his other arm, sparing Leo a knowing glance as he passes him to go through the door. 

It’s gonna be messy, and long- their recovery. Raph’s soft smile and deep stare says so, and Leo believes it. He doesn’t even want to think about their old home. 

He’s standing out here, frozen in the snow, thinking about it anyway though, a heat rushing through him like the purple flames he portaled his way into, in the main den, his feet unsteady and scorched. 

Leo doesn’t realize he’s slipping in his thoughts again until suddenly Donnie’s right by his side, bent metal arms from his battle shell pushing Leo ahead a few steps.

“On your feet, soldier,” he jokes, voice hoarse and dry but there’s a smile behind it, lips tugged up in an attempt at softening this a bit in true Donnie fashion, “Get your land legs.” 

And Leo lets out a breathless laugh, feeling like his chest is too full to breathe, but he walks forward, pushing himself to move, catching up with April as she lugs the bag of snacks they ransacked from a 7/11. 

She bumps him with her hip, walking up the steps to the porch. 

They’re alive, Leo reminds himself, stepping out of the cold and into the warmth of the farmhouse. 

And that’s gotta count for something. 


	2. father and sons and old floors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mikey wakes up someplace new

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i took inspo from the song 'Father and Son' by Yusuf/Cat Stevens, and I just absolutely love Rise!Mikey.

Mikey has no recollection of leaving the city. There’s a chunk of time that only feels like a wash of sound and color and barely comprehensible movement; where he thinks he’s on his feet and walking, but can’t quite tell where he’s going- his family’s voices being the only thing he can really decipher. 

He remembers the Turtle Tank being crushed and so Donnie steals them a van. Everything after that is a blank, black screen in Mikey’s head. He doesn’t even remember dreaming. 

When he does wake up, in a completely different place than he’s used to, in a bed instead of a hammock, old lady quilted blankets anchoring him to the mattress, for several minutes this is all Mikey wants to do, just to stay here and  _ sleep.  _

_ But _ he’s hungry. So he drags himself out of this bed, body a little sore and his muscles protest the movement as he swings his legs off the end of the bed, pushing himself up to stand, dark, splintered wood creaking beneath his feet.

The morning light is soft and grey, heavy clouds covering the sky. And it’s a little silly, but looking out at the row of trees, hues of warmth stretching out far into the distance, Mikey almost finds himself a little in awe. 

It’s not like they don’t have this back home….but, they  _ don’t-  _ not to this extent anyway. 

There’s snow and frost still clinging to the grass, turning to dew where the sun tries peeking out. 

Mikey sighs, and crosses the small bedroom to the hallway, finding the house quiet and still, and sorta pleasant that way. And so he creeps down the steps as silently as he can; the steps literally are old as hell, but Mikey’s a ninja- he can work something out. 

The kitchen isn’t like home, and that’s okay. Mikey’s trying to be grateful, but he’s still a kid, and so sometimes it’s hard to see the bigger picture. 

Still, it could be so much worse, and the fridge is stocked enough for some breakfast, so Mikey figures he’ll just start there. With something constructive he can do, something in his control. 

He feels his chest tighten, eyes stinging- but he doesn’t  _ really _ know why. There’s just a lot to wade through, and Mikey’d rather not, maybe in spite of what he’s always telling his brothers about acknowledging their feelings. But that’s, like, for parental neglect and self deprecating thoughts- not whatever just happened these past couple days. 

He’s just got no energy for...this whole situation.

Mikey pulls open the fridge and snags a few eggs from the top shelf, his heart feeling indescribably  _ full.  _

When he closes his eyes, to refocus, he only sees Karai. 

There’s no natto or tsukemono, no rice here or kobachi. Just eggs, cheese, milk, Cinnamon Toast Crunch and Pop Tarts. 

Fried omelettes it is then. 

Cooking is its own kind of healer, a medicine for Mikey since he was a child, a way to center himself. He’s still a child. That should matter somehow. 

He’s only had to cook outside of home a handful of times, and it’s all by choice; and he usually had some pretty damn good ingredients. 

_ “Just _ make do,” Mikey tells himself, taking a deep breath and exhaling, expelling all the junky feelings, “Omelettes work...even if you gotta cook ‘em the white folk way.”

If he could just find some rosemary….

Twenty minutes into scouring the frostbitten fields, and after giving up and actually consulting Google, Mikey comes to find out that rosemary does  _ not  _ grow like that in the winter. 

Then Mikey’s left standing over the stove with a runny nose and slightly damp feet, deciding that maybe plain omelette and tea isn’t  _ so  _ bad; that maybe he’s just being picky and difficult because he’s just so….

Mad. 

Maybe that’s valid, but Mikey hates the feeling, and he doesn’t even know  _ why  _ he’s so angry. 

Flipping the omelettes, Mikey sprinkles cheese over the tops of them, satisfied, at least, that they came out super fluffy. 

In his second batch, for his father, he dices tomatoes, slicing them thinly with a dull knife he finds in a rickety drawer. It works all the same though. 

Mikey stuffs the omelettes, and places them back in the cast iron pan to cook a little bit more, so that they’ll get a little crisp on the edges, just the way his father liked them. 

And as he turns up the flame to the gas stove, the flames stir, and somehow- it catches Mikey. He doesn’t know why, he doesn’t think it makes sense- but it jolts him, and it makes Mikey burn his hand on the pan

Stumbling backwards, Mikey bites his tongue, holding in an airy whine. 

Smoke goes up the longer the overcooked omelettes stay on and-

“Shit, shit, aw man…” Mikey rushes back to the stove, shaking his burnt hand and attempting to scrape up the eggs with his free one. 

He’s so preoccupied trying to save the eggs, and not freak out about a burn, that Mikey doesn’t hear the shuffling of footfalls against the wooden floors. He doesn’t see his father standing in the doorway of the kitchen, supporting himself heavily against the post, until he says Mikey’s name.

It’s quiet, but profound enough that it halts Mikey in his scraping and ‘not panic’-ing. He flashes a gigantic, guilty smile at his father, “Heh...morning Pops.”

Splinter’s own smile is sad, his eyes falling to Mikey’s hand, “What happened?” he asks like he already knows, and maybe he does. 

Maybe he can, like, read minds. There’s so much about his father that Mikey does not know. 

“I just...burned my hand cookin’,” Mikey answers, but the way Splinter keeps staring at him, like he  _ knows,  _ coaxes more from Mikey instantaneously, “I...I got spooked. I saw the...the uh, it’s like a gas stove so the fire was like- caught me off guard.”

And finally his dad crosses the kitchen, limping his way over and holding onto the wall. Mikey drops his spatula and scrambles to close the distance between him and his father, pulling up a chair for Splinter to sit in. 

Splinter takes the seat gratefully, and takes Mikey’s hand before Mikey can ask if his father’s alright (they already know the answer- he got his whole….essence robbed from him). 

“Hmm…” Splinter turns over Mikey’s hand, running his paw gently over the burn, as small as it was, it stung like hell, “Sometimes...ordinary things may spark memories we’d rather keep far from us.”

He looks up at Mikey, briefly, and then back to the floor, “I am sorry- I did not want you boys to have to….What you saw. I am sorry. I will be venturing- into the realm of my ancestors, I  _ will _ right these wrongs, Orange.” 

His dad says it with such conviction, but Mikey just doesn’t know. He doesn’t know what awaits them, he doesn’t know if he wants his father to go. 

And Mikey’s never been good at  _ not  _ crying. He gets to his knees and hangs his head, his hand still in Splinter’s. 

“It’s different when the fights are easy, y’know?” he sniffs, and Splinter nods slow and deliberate, “That sounds dumb but, I just know...when the stakes’re super high….and it just gets  _ stuck.  _ Like, in my head, I keep seein’ our home just...burning- n’ leavin’ you behind, dad, I…”

His father simply rubs his shell, his paw coming to rest on Mikey’s shoulder. 

There’s not much to say to that. There’s not much they can do. And Splinter will be heading to the spirit realm to find answers to defeating the demon- and Mikey’s not so sure he’s ready for all of this. 

Splinter lifts Mikey’s head and there’s reassurance in his eyes, even if they’re a bit tired. 

“Anatawa Hitorijanai,” he says, and moves to cup Mikey's face, repeating it firmer this time. 

Mikey drops his head to Splinter’s lap, shoulders rocking. His father sways with him. 

“I’m sorry I burnt the omelettes,” Mikey mumbles, muffled in his father’s robe, and Splinter chuckles deep in his chest.

The omelettes stay burnt on the stove, but that’s a problem for later. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> splinter and mikey's relationship is the best thing in the world im gonna go sob. I chose to have Splinter go on this spiritual journey because I like that concept and I can imagine after feeling like he hasn't trained his children or himself, he needs answers from his ancestors. Also I gave him a bit more physical ramifications from the fight bc- yeah.


	3. April Come She Will

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Splinter is away, in the quiet of an October weekend, the Turtles receive a well-needed visitor!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah another chapter! I adore the way Rise made April such a pivotal person in the turtles’ lives and so I had to make her a part of their time in Northampton. More fall vibes! I gotta get these boys sweaters.

School starts up again when everybody gets back on their feet again, and April doesn’t see Sunita around it much, there’s this empty space in Chem. There’s a lot of empty spaces. So many kids unenroll, and it makes April wonder just how many Yokai were in her school this entire time.

She hopes they’re safe, down in the Hidden City. 

It takes 3 hours to get between Brooklyn and Fulton County- Northampton- and 5 hours by train. But April’s used to long commutes on trains and she doesn’t mind spending the time it takes to leave home on the weekends to see her family. 

The city’s been weird ever since the Nexus; no one knows what the hell actually happened, and everyone’s been scrambling with conspiracy theories to explain the sudden disappearance and reappearance of New Yorkers. But April doesn’t have to wonder, she was at the very heart of, in the throngs of the fight.

Getting out of New York City was the best thing she could do, even if it was for a few days. It’s better this time, they’re off for four days Columbus the Colonizer day. 

So April blows into the farmhouse with the blustery autumn wind, leaves dancing at her feet into the entryway of the home, mud stuck in the crevices of the old wood. 

She doesn’t need to shout that she’s here, she just tosses her blue coat on the banister and skids into the living room where Donnie waits with blankets and Poptarts and Starbursts for her, nose in his phone. A smile crawls onto his face cutting through the tired lines there, and without turning around, Donnie swings his arm to the back of the couch, catching April at her waist. 

“Geez  _ two minutes late _ , I was panicking, thought maybe a bear got you,” he jokes and holds her arm as April climbs over the back of the couch to plop down beside him, “I was very much  _ just _ preparing the eulogy.” 

“I think I could handle a bear, thank you very much,” April quips back, grinning harder with the way Donnie snickers, pushing her face gently, “And we both know you’d suck at eulogizing.” 

Donnie simply barks a laugh, and it’s genuine and...really nice to hear at least. 

It’s no secret that Donnie hates it here, but he’s making do. And nobody likes talking about it, but it feels like he’s somehow had way more to lose in all of this- at least April thinks so. But Donnie won’t talk about it, he won’t even bitch about being up here in what they both jokingly call  _ South Canada.  _

And if Donnie’s not bitching that means he’s tired, and off kilter, and pensive. 

There’s not much April can offer to fix that, and so she just does this: she sits with him on the couch and they watch videos and movies and pretend to not think about anything with weight to it. 

It’s equal parts therapeutic and guiltful, because maybe they should be talking about things, maybe hiding up here is worse, at least Donnie wonders that. But they’re sitting ducks right now, with Splints on a spirit journey right now and all. 

There’s just a lot of stuff to work through. 

Those thoughts are for another day, though, because Freeform is having those Spooky Friday marathons and April and Donnie are nerds about monsters and freaky, ghoulish shit. 

“Where’s the guys?” April shakes her blanket, spreading it all across her, and puts her twists up into a ponytail.

“Around,” Donnie mumbles around a Starburst, crinkling the wrapper in his fingers, and then he meets April’s eyes and there’s something sad in his, “I think, uh...I’ve been miserable to be around maybe so...you know- and it makes sense, I’m not- they’re just out right now  _ exploring,  _ and I’d rather...not, so.” 

He presses a smile and something drops in April’s stomach. She doesn’t know why it catches her, she’s not surprised that her other brothers have adjusted quicker- or if that’s at least what it looks like. 

But hearing Donnie address it, it kinda stings her heart a little to know that, yeah, he’s struggling. 

“They’ll have to watch out for bears,” April says, smiling softly with a comfort behind it.

And it reaches Donnie; he laughs, popping another Starburst into his mouth, “Let me text them that, they’ll definitely know I’ve spiraled into paranoia.” 

April spares him a glance as she shifts around to get comfortable, snagging the remote. Just to see if he’s really joking or not. She’s known him long and well enough to know that he’s not, but decides to just let that situation be for now, settling down.

Donnie doesn’t mind April using his thigh as a pillow, and April finds herself really proud of that fact, actually; he’s not touchy, he’s got a thing about germs, and yet he lets her get so close. 

They get through two of the Twitches movies and a Toy Story Halloween short and Donnie nods off first, his hand over April’s back, a heavy weight holding her and lulling her to sleep just as Casper comes on. 

And when April wakes up again, Nightmare Before Christmas is starting, and Donnie is still knocked out. The sun lower and clouds have rolled in since. 

April slides out from under Dee’s hand, and guides his torso down to the couch, throwing her blanket over him before trailing off from the living room to the kitchen. 

The place reminds her of her grandmother so much, of baking with her in this small space.

April sighs, and looks out the window to the field of grass and shriveled wheat, blowing in the wind, frostbitten by early autumn snow. 

In the distance, amongst the grass, near the stream, is Raph. And April only hesitates for a split second, wondering if maybe he’d want to be alone. The hesitation falls away with the recollection of their talk, their training in the woods. 

_ You’re not alone…. _

April throws on her blue coat and sneakers and pushes her away outside into the cold, crossing the field to Raph, and stopping a few feet behind him, second guessing herself again. Because maybe she’s not what he needs, maybe she’s not what  _ any  _ of them need. 

But Raph quarter turns, a welcoming, placid smile pulling her in closer. 

“I thought you and Donnie’d sleep all day,” he jokes, and then, turning genuine: “Thanks for keepin’ ‘im company like that. He...ya know how he gets.”

April hugs her other arm, glancing back at the farmhouse, “Yeah…”

For a little bit, it’s just the sound of slow moving water, the stream swollen by melted frost and icy rain. Raph tosses small rocks into it, and traces the flow of the stream with his eyes. 

“I wish…” he starts, and closes his mouth to sort out his words, “I thought about going back, just to see how bad the damage is...or maybe get Don his stuff if it...ya know. An’ Leo teleported there at first- just ta get a couple’a goods….he didn’t talk about it though. I don’t think I could stomach it.”

Raph sighs, shaking his head, and plucks up some grass. April lowers down beside him, placing her hand over Raph’s, his hand flattening under hers softly into the cold grass. 

She tells him to take his time.

“Don’t go back if you’re not  _ ready-  _ it’s okay,” April says, staring deeply and sincerely into Raph’s eyes. 

He bites his lower lip, but stares right back with a determination to be strong, and with an understanding, an agreement. His eyes fall away, though, at his next thoughts, his confidence and certainty fading as quickly as April was able to conjure it.

“Thing is…” Raph sniffs, looking down at their hands, “Ion know if...like. ‘Cause just thinkin’ about home I just...see _ her.” _

April doesn’t have to guess, she already knows. 

_ Karai.  _

And April doesn’t realize she’s been silent for too long, just staring at Raph, until he snorts, shaking his head again.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I’m dumpin’ a lot on you, and I, I know ya had it worse...you saw her when she… when she went. I shouldn’t be-”

April’s scrunched up expression, and her pointer finger in his face, stops Raph in his attempts at guilting himself. 

“Hey, hey, hol’ up, Mister,” she says, “As crazy screwed up as it was having a dead lady in my body, we’re not gonna dismiss trauma on this bus, aight?”

Raph opens his mouth, and April wags her finger, shutting him back up, “We  _ all  _ went through it. And you’re not...it’s okay to dump, that’s what ‘m here for, Raph. Get it?”

Laughing quietly, Raph nods, pauses, and nods again, “Got it...definitely got it.”

April stares at him long, considering him, before nodding, satisfied, “Good.”

And the hug Raph pulls her into is nothing unexpected. He gives the absolute best hugs. April sinks into it with gratitude, and feels an otherworldly heat surge through her body at the contact, the force of the hug growing stronger, and April’s vision blurs into a white light. 

Raph shakes in the embrace, and April knows exactly who’s hugging him back right now, and though she can’t make out what’s whispered between them, she knows Karai is imparting some blessing on Raphael. 

The energy leaves April’s body in a rush, expelling the heat, and leaving her to the cold breeze. And all she can do is lay back on the grass to regain her bearings.

Raph joins her, lying on his shell, staring up at the thickening clouds. 

A shuffle in the grass gets near them, but they’re both too exhausted to look at its origin, though it doesn’t remain a mystery for long.

Donnie, blanket wrapped around him and dragging in the grass, simply lowers himself between where Raph and April lay. He stays sitting up, and lets Raph take his hand loosely, and lets April scooch a little closer. 

“That was pretty cool to watch from the window,” Donnie says, quiet and dry and humored all the same. “You guys were glowy...I took a video…”

And Raph simply sighs a laugh, one that April shares a little more dramatically. 

Their laughter mingles with the sound of rustling wheat and grass, and the flowing stream. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Definitely gonna be exploring each of the boys’ “aftermaths” throughout these drabbles. I also thought it a fun concept to have the Human World really shaken up by what happened in the finale and therefore they’re starting to pay more attention to Yokai, not realizing the Yokai are definitely not the enemy. 
> 
> Anyway lemme stop rambling! Thank you all for your thoughtful reviews!! I’ll get to replying in the mornin’!


	4. space song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raph wars with the idea of protecting his family. Also everyone is wearing sweaters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title taken from the song: Space Song, especially the lines “Somewhere in these eyes, I am on your side.” 
> 
> Also did yall see the animatic of the alternate fight scene? Yeah...
> 
> Please enjoy!

The worst thing about the house was the draft, and that the floors were so old that moving slightly, and even the wind, made the eeriest creaking noise; and they’d all somewhat become very light sleepers. 

Maybe it’s a biological thing, their bodies’ way of them to be on high alert. Or maybe it’s just  _ too  _ quiet, a different kind of environment, a different kind of noise outside. 

No rumbling from a train over them, no scurrying of sewer animals or the reverberations of music high above them, on the surface. It’s just...wind now. And the rustling of leaves, the creaking of the farmhouse.

And the constant drip from the bathroom down the hall. 

It was a collective, unanimous decision. Pops was out  _ cold _ basically, either too weak to do much when he  _ was _ coherent or just completely vibed out in the ancestral plane, on a seemingly endless search for answers to a puzzle none of his ancestors actually cracked themselves. 

The boys are all so eager to hear what he’s learned, but there’s a bit of hesitation, at least on Raph’s part, because whatever past his father’s buried, he’s sure it’ll take courage to face it. Whatever the outcome, it won’t be easy. 

The easiest days feel miles behind them, the distance growing day by day. 

“You sure this is...good..?” Donnie pokes their dad, cocking his head slightly, “We can’t just put him in, you know, a bed? Or a...comfy chair?”

Admittedly they almost put Donnie in there when he promptly passed out with one foot in the door on their initial arrival to the farmhouse. But he hates water and woke up just before they were gonna dunk him in. 

So, Raph  _ isn’t  _ sure; Pops looks so...not present, and it’s kinda jarring really, but he at least looks comfortable.

Shrugging, Raph loops his thumbs on the elastic band of his sweats, “Ion know, I feel like I saw this in a movie’a somethin’ from the 90’s. Keeps him...hydrated!” 

“I feel like he’s  _ definitely  _ gonna get pneumonia,” Mikey drawls, perched on the cracked porcelain toilet seat, his chin resting on his knees, “Maybe we should get a hot tub.”

“Not gonna lie, I could use a hot tub boys- but not if  _ Dad’s _ in it,” says Leo, around the brim of his mug of vanilla chai tea because of course he’s drinking vanilla chai tea, “Plus those are a gazillion dollars  _ and _ we’re poor.” 

“We’re  _ not _ poor,” Raph says, still eyeing his father, “Donnie’s the money guy and unless he says we’re poor, we ain’t poor.” 

Prying open Splinter’s eyelids with a gloved hand, Donnie snickers, “Oh-ho we’re not  _ poor _ , we’re  _ middle classed. _ ”

Raph lets himself smile at that, quarter turning to where Leo stands at the doorway, “See?” 

“Is that much better?” Leo snorts, and Donnie falls into quiet fits of laughter as an answer.

And when Raph looks to Donnie for some confirmation on that, he finds his brother fighting a fit of laughter, a snide kinda smirk forming as he simply looks back down at his phone.

Raph simply decides that he’d rather not know the details of their finances because he’s got no clue how all of that’s supposed to work. He’s got no clue how  _ any  _ of this is supposed to work, really. They’re all just here, in this drafty, creaky little bathroom deciding where to put their father, who’s, like, in some other plane if existence entirely.

It’s trippy. And wrong. And they’re all sorta feeling it.

Only Raph’s got insight his brothers don’t; they didn’t see the memories of their father that he did. They’ve seen Splinter vulnerable physically, sure, but… 

“So we just wait?” Mikey’s voice brings Raph back from the maze of thoughts and worries and mess, and when he looks to his brother, Raph finds trust there. 

He doesn’t quite feel like he deserves it- that look, his brothers’ trust- just yet. And still his father’s words sit heavy on his chest, and echo in the place of his self doubt. 

* * *

_ They have tea. It’s never been Raph’s forté, but he drinks it down humbly beside his father, unsure of what to say next. _

_ Of what happens next.  _

_ After Draxum pulled them out of Splinter’s head, things just moved so fast, and the weight of their city- and of Raphael’s entire universe- was on them, and there just was never a good time to talk about. About what Raph had seen there, in Splinter’s memories.  _

_ And ever since, Raph’d been somewhat avoiding this moment.  _

_ It’s just the two of them. April’s stepped through a Leo-provided portal back to the city, Mikey’s stayed conked out, and Leo’s started his nightly binge of Euphoria. Donnie took his leave on the couch, and Dad’s done scrubbing his hands from the remnants of cleaning his wounds and tea is the best way to settle a stomach.  _

_ It’s just the two of them. _

_ Raph isn’t so sure how to start a conversation- which is rare when it comes to his father. There’s just...a lot to cover. Between their own recovery plans, their blown up lair, the whereabouts of Shredder, and Splinter’s sorta depressing ass background… Raph’s got no clue where to start.  _

_ But thank goodness the silence is broken by Pops instead, who sets his tea down with a heavy sigh.  _

_ “You were very brave today…”  _

_ Raph breathes a laugh, shaking his head, “Y-yeah...yeah, no- just got lucky with a good team.”  _

_ Pops is quite to that for a moment, turning his head slightly to look up at Raphael, his eyes bright with the reflection of the fireplace in them.  _

_ “And that good team, had a good  _ leader,”  _ he eventually says, patting Raph’s knee, “You will watch over them wonderfully until I return to you.” _

_ So much trust in that simple gesture, and behind that stare. And somehow, almost instantaneously, it made Raphael believe in himself too.  _

* * *

It’s 2:30 when April swings by, and this time with company. She and Casey’ve apparently had time to catch up, and get to really know one another in the days it takes for New York to settle. 

It’s another thing Raph isn’t all that sure of, but his brothers are so okay with it, and he doesn’t want to take this away from them or anything but-

“You put the rat in a tub?!” 

Casey is blunt in their words, and emphatic in their gestures as they extend out two frantically waving arms in Splinter’s direction, the sleeves of their sweater dangling. 

“Uh, ch’yeah dude,” Leo snorts, assuming his usual position leaning against the bathroom doorpost (it doesn’t go unnoticed to raph that his brother refuses to get close to their father, and maybe they’ll talk about that later-), “He was like way out of it, and he never sleeps in a bed and like-”

“We can’t just put ‘im in the living room..!” Mikey finishes and Leo nods slowly to that, “Way too eerie.”

“Imagine playing Mario 3D world on the Switch that you smuggled off the black market, and you look a  _ little  _ to your left and your dad’s soulless stare hits you…” is what Donnie follows up with, earning two pensive, agreeable nods from Mikey and Leo.

Casey slowly lowers their arms, eyes trailing from the three brothers, to April, to Splinter’s prone form, and then, finally, to Raph. 

He’s got nothing really to say, quite honestly feeling awkwardly  _ exposed  _ right now. April’s  _ family-  _ and she’s well within her rights to see them like this but...Casey…

“I-I just… saw it in a movie ‘guess…’s- yeah, I just saw it in a movie.”

And Casey quirks a brow, but their face slowly falls to some sort of satisfaction with that answer, eyes softening on Raph a little, like maybe some realization’s just hit them. 

“Well,” April claps loud enough to interrupt whatever Casey had been thinking, staring oddly deep into Raph, “Now that we….cleared that  _ whole _ situation up, I was  _ thinking  _ we watch a  _ movie.” _

Grabbing Casey by the wrist and she sidesteps and shimmies out the bathroom, but not before sparing Raph a glance, a look that’s a cross between  _ please forgive I thought this was a great idea in the moment,  _ and  _ please just cooperate, I love you.  _

And Raph’s brothers follow suit, only Donnie stopping for a moment to pat Raph’s arm and tug him back a little. It’s only for a second, but it takes Raph back to the living room, nights ago, by the fireplace with his father. 

“You good?” Donnie asks but not because he doesn’t already have the answer, and he looks at Raph with a semblance to the way he stared at him back in the woods. 

Raph never wants to go back to how he felt then, so he swallows the feelings in his throat and nods, if not a bit reluctantly.

“No bullshitting,” says Donnie, because he’s got the right to, because he’s Raph’s brother and maybe too much like him in this regard, “What’s the dealio, the sitch, the 4-1-1- you can tell me...really.” 

He bumps shoulders with Raph for good measure, and it lightens up the weight of Raph’s worries just a little as he laughs quietly, rolling his shoulders. 

“Ion know it’s just…” he pauses, listening for the sound of his siblings and Casey in the kitchen, just to know he’s in the clear, “Pops wants me to...well it’s what I’m s’posed ta do- look out f’ everyone and… Casey- what if. I know they helped us out but what if-”

“They’re a spy set out to lead us into a deadly trap thus repeating the whole Shredder finds our home and tries killing us thing?” Donnie twirls his fingers,  _ “Kinda  _ been mulling the odds over on that too.” 

Raph sags, in partial relief that he’s not alone, and defeat that he isn’t; if Donnie’s thought it up then there’s probably a high chance of it happening. 

But then Donnie, arms crossed in the laxed way he does when he’s being idealistic, gives a half hearted shrug, “But I mean, April’s intuition is wicked. She picked us, right? And dad...sorta knew them- that’s what April said.”

Raph stares ahead down the hall, hearing the laughter from a floor below. He doesn’t take his eyes from off that path, but tilts his head slightly towards his brother. 

“First sign’a trouble…I’m callin’ this off arite?”

Donnie sighs, something resigned and understanding in it, “Truly wouldn’t expect any less. But if my guess is solid- and my guesses are, not to toot my own horn-”

“You?  _ Never,”  _ Raph snickers, earning a flick to his arm.

“Har…” Donnie drawls, standing up a bit straighter, “But, listen- I’m  _ saying _ …they’re most likely what we could’ve been if we didn’t have dad- which is mind boggling because I rarely give dad his props  _ but-”  _

Exhaling, Donnie gives another shrug, “I-d-k, but I think Casey just needs us. It was dad who got them to turn around and having an ally on our side...you know, wouldn’t hurt.”

Donnie is rarely this vocal, and maybe something sorta switched with him since The Whole Shredder Thing, but Raph can’t say he’s all that surprised. 

His brother’s always been keen on things, and plays both sides a little too well sometimes, and has always had sensitivity to him even if he buried it often. The kind that looked out for people and wanted to believe in anybody if it meant having a friend. 

And he’s right...in a way. Raph knew Pops, and he knew his father wouldn’t have invested whatever time he did in Casey if it wasn’t worth it. 

“Aight...you win, I’ll be...less, uh, weird about it, I guess.” 

Donnie snorts, starting down the hall towards the steps, Raph following after, “Be as weird as you want, I just thought I’d be generous with my two cents-  _ which  _ reminds me, I lowkey wanna make a bet on who’s gonna drive Casey insane  _ first- _ Mikey or Leo?” 

“Oh it’s definitely gonna be you,” Raph says, shoving Donnie’s head playfully as he races down the steps, evading Donnie’s attempted kick. 

* * *

“Oh-ho we’re  _ watching it.  _ You guys have missed out on THEE GREATEST MOVIE OF ALL TIME AND I AIM TO RECTIFY THAT!”

Turns out Casey knows a  _ lot  _ about movies. They’ve seen Alien 67 times and opts to show them all the beauty of Scifi Horror outside of poorly directed Jupiter Jim.

Mikey spends 90% of the time popping in and out of his shell that Leo desperately clings to, Donnie and April laugh at all the horrifying parts, matching Casey’s own excitement, and Raph watches his family step back into some form of normalcy again. 

Casey elbows him to offer some chocolate covered kettle corn, their smile wide and inviting Raph to just…forget for a little while that there’s so much up against his family. 

It feels...incredibly weightless- the best Raph’s felt in days. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im still grappling with Foot Recruit as Casey Jones bc as much as I adore the concept, by the finale Foot Recruit hadn’t entirely felt Casey-esque buuuut that won’t stop me from trying!  
> I headcon them as using they/them pronouns!
> 
> Stay tuned for more!


	5. The Right Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leo doesn’t sleep, Mikey needs a day out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did somebody order Leo angst? Definitely using the animatic unreleased fight scene just so y’all know!

When they were kids, April taught them a game. She’d frantically move some furniture around and throw Dad’s favorite pillows and cushions on the floor, all strewn out, and declare the floor now untouchable. 

The game was called  _ The Floor is Lava,  _ and Leo was spectacularly good at it. He’s lithe and fast and spends hours practicing gymnastics from YouTube videos, and he easily bounces from one end of the room to the other, the floor never meeting his feet. 

Raph tumbles out first, Mikey’s laughing so hard at the way Raph missed his jump that he misses his  _ own  _ jump, Donnie’s avoiding any and all collisions- he’s the referee- and April accidentally lands on him when he gets in the way of her leap from one couch to Pops’ chair. 

And Leo keeps going and going, because he feels weightless and infinite the longer he goes. 

It’s just a game, but it becomes a sort of practice for Leo. So even as they get older- and Raph gets way too big to be jumping all on their old, beat up couches- Leo  _ still  _ plays the game, and uses it to train his agility. 

He keeps practicing and practicing until the day comes when he doesn’t have to pretend that ground beneath him is burning- he feels it scorching, so he keeps light on his feet, throwing himself through portals and bouncing effortlessly through the flames consuming their home.

And he can’t think about the losses now, or else he’d lose his footing; Leo only calculates his movements and the trajectories and that shit that Donnie taught him. 

But all that math and all his thinking- it leaves Leo the moment he sees Mikey drop from a story above him. His brother falls fast and Leo leaps off the broken ledge of the third floor without thinking. He doesn’t think about the jump- or maybe he thinks about it so fast it just feels like second nature- but when he clutches Mikey, Leo swears he’ll never let him go, even as they spin and plummet down. 

Even as Leo’s eyes meet the Shredder’s, his heartbeat thudding, the only sound Leo can hear for the milliseconds it takes for him to cut his Ōdachi through the air, the beginnings of a portal illuminating blue streaks that burst and evaporated into nothing, the shards of Leo’s Ōdachi scattering in midair and the claws of the Shredder narrowly missing his face. 

A thousand thoughts enter Leo’s brain, a million possibilities- or just a few. He thinks to throw Mikey- maybe his brother will make it, will land someplace else. Or maybe he should just hold him before the hit they flames racing across the den of their home. 

They stop falling, and when Leo opens his eyes and sees red, he almost thinks it’s the fire. But his eyes lock onto Raph’s tearful ones and the safety Leo feels, though fleeting, is enough to make him want to just collapse right now, his body shaking in tune with Mikey’s trimmering shell. 

_ “Get outta here,”  _ Raph tells him, quickly setting his brothers on the second floor and dashing into the fight before Leo could stop him-  _ if _ he could’ve stopped him. 

He kneels close to the ledge, unable to tear his eyes away from the fight, and from the flames; he sees Karai rush in to help Raph and Dee and finds some relief in that, finally turning his body and attention to Mikey, whose starting wide eyed, eyes darting at the room around them. 

His brother jolts at the way their home shakes and rumbles with the reverberations from the fight down below, and Leo limps to his brother, his adrenaline waning just enough for him to feel the burns on his feet. They don’t matter, though, because he gets to Mikey anyway, dropping to his knees beside him and, carefully, he places a hand on his brother’s shoulder. 

Mikey jerks again, his eyes shooting to Leo’s. “H-holy shit…” he says shakily, a breathless laugh pushing out from his chest.

Leo doesn’t know why he laughs too, his throat hoarse and dry. None of this is funny- God, it’s really awful. 

Maybe it’s the adrenaline or the shock, Leo doesn’t have the energy to figure it out. He goes to pull Mikey in for a hug when something- a blur of green and red- goes careening past them at lightning speed, crashing into the storage shelves of all their old stuff Dad refused to get rid off. 

It’s Raph, and Leo trips over himself running to where his brother is, struggling to get back up. 

He catches Raph’s arm, in an attempt to steady him, and Mikey places a hand on their brother’s shell to keep him from getting up too quickly. 

“Easy…” Mikey says, “Don’t get up-”

Raph shakes his head, swallowing hard like he’ll vomit. Despite them holding him, he gets at least to his knees, “Don’s by himself down there- we gotta...we gotta move.” 

Leo looks over his brother, and makes an assessment of him- and knows he can’t take more hits. And he looks to Mikey and instinctively wants his brother- as ferocious and powerful in battle as he is- Leo wants him  _ miles  _ from this. 

He looks back to Raph as he pulls away and rises to his blistered feet, “I’ll go get him outta there-” jogging backwards he turns his eyes to Mikey, “You guys  _ stay put _ , arite? I’m comin’ back.”

And Leo doesn’t let them answer or let their shouts for him stop slow him down, even as both his brothers try to catch up. But they all are made to stop anyway, at the ledge, just before Leo goes to leap down to find Donnie. 

Their brother’s tech makes little sparks in the air, his body caught in the grasps of Shredder. 

And then Leo’s body  _ can’t  _ move. It’s stuck. He’s stuck. He-

* * *

Leo does not sleep at night. When he does he sees a number of unpleasant things, memories washing over him in waves, and he finds himself overthinking, reworking every mistake and every move until he’s left seeing the sun peak through thin cream colored curtains, casting light along the floor of the bedroom. 

This isn’t his space- this isn’t  _ any  _ of their spaces. He can’t sleep here without the reminder that he’s lost his home. Without reliving the plummet, not knowing if he’d save his brother, and watching from stories up- Donnie…and the way Raph had picked him up and set him aside he thought...

So, Leo doesn’t sleep at night. 

But it makes for very productive, very much needed binging time. He finishes whole seasons in days, it’s really admirable, he thinks. A brand new record. 

But it’s not healthy, it’s never been healthy- and Leo casually acknowledges this as he pulls open the freezer for Eggo waffles. 

The chill feels oddly comfortable on his face; when he over thinks he gets overwhelmed and sweaty and the pit of his stomach feels heavy and...he just needs to eat. 

There’s very few solaces in this house, but the chill of the freezer, followed by warm food and watching the falling autumn leaves outside- those are a comfort. His feet are still bandaged and sore, he keeps them tucked in these duck slippers he found on Amazon. 

He checked his burns for infection and Donnie rubber stamped that they were clear- they’d just take a long while to heal.

They all were gonna take a long while to heal. 

From the kitchen window, Leo watches Raph rake up leaves. He’s pretty good at this farmhouse stuff, and looks more at peace doing that than sitting around. 

Donnie’s taken to fixing things up- he’s in heaven right now and Leo doesn’t blame him. He’s grateful for it actually. Better lighting, hotter showers, and there’s an old beat up car near the barn that Leo’s calling dibs on after Donnie and Casey take a look at it. 

The two actually got on pretty quickly after the horror movie night, and after Casey found out about run down cars in need of fixing, they  _ both _ started nerding out. 

Donnie says Leo is  _ not  _ getting the car, Leo thinks he’s bluffing. 

And he tells his brother this regularly. 

“But I’m  _ not,  _ though,” Donnie says, casually sliding Leo’s half eaten Eggo waffle onto his plate, “Pass your license,  _ then _ we talk. As an honorable turtle, I can’t condone illegal driving.”

They can’t go take regular driver’s tests. They’re not humans and they’re not registered Hidden City citizens, so they use Mario Kart, and Dad decides if they pass. Genius idea, Hamato Family. 

“But you condone illegal shit  _ all the time,”  _ Leo fake whines, shaking the whipped cream canister and spraying it on his plate.

“We’ve been over this,” Donnie drawls, looking disgusted at Leo eating a plate of whipped cream, “I only condone illegal actions when-”

_ “It benefits the family, and/or screws the capitalist system.”  _ Both Leo and Donnie recite in unison.

“Ugh, you’re lame,” Leo grumbles, a smile framing his words, “Where’s Mikey?”

Donnie pauses for a second as he goes to put his plate in the sink, sipping his frap, “Take a guess…” 

Leo deflates at that, and noticing it, Donnie places a hand on his brother’s shoulder, “I tried bribing him out with the notion of my gourmet banana pancakes but…you know. Even offered to show him how to tune the muffler on-  _ ahem- _ not your car.”

Snorting a laugh, Leo finishes off his whipped cream, “You shouldn’t even  _ be _ on your feet long enough to work on that.” He pushes out from the table and gives Donnie a gentle pat on the head, careful not to upset his concussed brain. “Ahem,  _ my _ car- can wait.”

* * *

He finds Mikey right where he knew he would. Right at their father’s side. 

It’s not that they all haven’t worried and expressed their worries over Splinter. They’ve never really taken journeys to the astral world, they never got to that field trip in their training, but they all know enough to understand how taxing it must be for their father, and he had barely recovered from the fight. 

Still, Mikey took it harder, worried longer, and had more trouble shaking it off than the rest of them, and honestly Leo had been keeping his distance from this room- from his dad. But he can’t leave his brother. 

“So you really said no to banana pancakes?” Leo strolls into the bathroom, and offers a soft smile to Mikey when he turns a little in the chair he’s placed beside the tub “ _ Donnie’s  _ banana pancakes not to mention.”

Mikey sags, chin in his one hand and phone in the other, “Meh…we’re outta bananas so he couldn’t make 'em anyway.” 

Leo clucks his tongue, chuckling slightly at that- because of course Donnie would forget to actually make sure they  _ had  _ the ingredients before using it as incentive. Though, maybe it’s good he did that; it segways Leo’s idea anyway. 

“Well, you wanna go get some?” 

Going out to do menial, regular errands is probably one of the strongest of the sibling bonding activities, and it’s something that takes the mind off of shitty things. God knows Leo needs that. 

Mikey seems to need it to, with the way he perks up just a little bit, turning again in the chair to Leo.

“I been needin’ to get sweaters too,” he says, raising his brow ridge a little, “If you catch my drift.” 

“Oh, I catch,” Leo grins, the idea of hitting up a thrift store already cleansing his vibes. 

* * *

Upstate is way different from the city, Leo gets to remembering as he fixes his hat a little lower on his face. It’s quieter, emptier, and it’s giving him 1980s Horror film, but mostly in just an aesthetics kinda way. 

And maybe it’s weirder because the word got out about the city, and the idea of an attempted alien takeover’s got a lot of people spooked.

Leo understands, but wishes they knew how much they had it twisted. 

_ I was there!  _ He wants to say, but doesn’t. He just keeps his eyes down, and puts the bananas on the scale, making sure Mikey stays in his sightline. 

The cool thing about humans is- they barely notice a thing, it’s close to Halloween, nobody really wants to stop and ask a guy  _ why’s your skin kinda green and where’s the rest of your fingers man? _ That’s just being nosy, and the less most of these people know, the better. 

Leo almost wishes he and his family could’ve stayed that naive.

“Uh...you think we should get one bunch or two?”

Mikey’s voice pulls Leo from his thoughts. 

“N’yeah let’s get two...just in case.” 

The minimart is so old and cute and rundown. Mikey pushes the obnoxiously squeaky cart and drops the bananas in. The squeaking wheels and outdated radio station are about the only noise between them for a few aisles, before Mikey clears his throat in the middle of the dairy section.

“Just so know…” he says, a smile forming gently, “You pulling me outta the house- I’m glad ya did…” 

Leo’s smile is just as warm and gentle as he pockets his phone, “Oh yeah, no, like. I really needed air and- sorta missed doing this.” 

Mikey makes an agreeing sound in his throat, checking the date on some milk, “...yo, it feels like  _ ages  _ since we been home, but Ion know...I don’t mind it- cos it’s probably all…”

“Yeah.” Leo says quickly, “Yeah it is- it was. We’ll fix it though.” 

Mikey doesn’t ask how, Leo doesn’t really know how. He’s grateful his brother doesn’t ask. 

They go back to quietly meandering the aisles, picking stuff they probably already have at home, just to prolong the silent comfort of their companionship. 

When they pay, and leave the shop, the autumn air greets them both, and Mikey says  _ thank you,  _ and Leo knows it’s not just for the grocery run. 

“Yeah…” Leo sighs, and throws an arm over Mikey, pulling him in close, “Yeah, I gotcha buddy.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These boys!! I love Mikey and Leo’s dynamic so so much. I know they’re very close and I can imagine Leo being very protective over Mikey but not suffocatingly so. They don’t have deep talks, but chilling out helps them both.


	6. Pumpkins....But Make it Science

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tired of being benched, Donnie, of course, has a terrible idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I saw we could’ve had a pumpkin ep for Donnie I just had to find a way to fit that into the farmhouse arc so! Here it be! 
> 
> This is more of a break from the “healing” aspect of this fic, and just a fun sorta standalone idea I got from the show!

There honestly wasn't much to do up in Northampton, Fulton County- compared to the city anyway- and Donnie isn’t one for extraordinary outings or anything, but he could never anticipate ever being in an atmosphere so  _ quiet.  _

Even in his lab there was always moise; the wiring, the little fun bubbly noise festering chemicals would make as they simmered on a bunsen burner. Donnie  _ misses  _ it, more than anything, as he sits laid up on the couch for the gazillionth day in a row. 

_ Under close inspection,  _ Raph had said, pinning Donnie down and wrapping him in layers of blankets like a miserably compacted burrito. 

“I’m not...riskin’ nothin’ happenin’ to ya, okay? Just...relax. For like seven consecutive days, aight? No...car fixing or whatever you and Casey do. Just  _ sit. _ ” 

And Donnie really couldn’t say no to his brother, with the way their eyes met and Donnie could see the desperation in Raph’s. That his brother’s  _ serious  _ here, and that he’s got every right to be. 

Donnie personally would like to forget almost everything about the battle that took place in their home, but he can’t- not all of it, anyway. And if he’s mulling over it, he knows Raph is probably doing so even more intensely. Because he’s Raph, and that’s just in his nature.

There’s not much Donnie can do to remedy that part of his brother, but he can try. 

So Donnie stays put. He behaves. He doesn’t stare at screens too long or get on his feet too much, doesn’t even  _ think  _ of the car, and lets the quiet of the farmhouse keep him company while his brothers finally get around to doing productive things. 

He’s just in the middle of a mid-Saturday afternoon nap on the couch with April and Mikey when the movie they’re kinda not really watching cuts to commercial.   


Donnie doesn’t have his contacts in, just his glasses sitting crooked on his face, but it’s unmistakable what appears on the screen regardless: a pretty, freaking gigantic pumpkin, and a tiny dude measuring it. 

_ Northampton Pumpkin Contest! Grow the biggest pumpkin in Fulton and win...the admiration of your neighbors!  _

Sitting up partially, Donnie fixes his glasses, eyes widening at the television as the commercial, with pretty catchy elevator sounding music, lists off the information and deadlines and stipulations. 

A cash prize would’ve been ideal, but admiration is a wonderfully acceptable close second. 

Patting Mikey’s arm to wake his brother, Donnie feels a grin spreading on his face that he hasn’t quiet felt in- well he did feel it just two and a half hours ago actually, but that’s besides the point.

Mikey snorts awake, immediately jolting to sit up, surveying the room without really seeing it for a few seconds, before he deflates in the absence of threat. 

“Wuh- wuzzup?” Mikey yawns, rubbing at his eye, “You’kay?” 

Donnie laughs breathily, “I got an  _ idea.” _

Mikey slowly quirks his brow ridge, turning his eyes to the screen that Donnie’s are glued to. 

“You want a pumpkin? P sure we make pie if you wanna…?” 

But Donnie’s smile grows and his laughter eases out maniacally as he twiddles his fingers, waking up April who’s passed out across his lap. 

“Oh lord….” April mumbles into the pillow, already knowing what follows.

* * *

“Dee. Donnie,  _ Don-”  _ Mikey races after his brother, feet skidding across the freshly mopped floor. He catches himself on the doorpost, watching his brother step outside, shrugging on his cardigan.

“Raph’s  _ not _ gonna be a happy camper. You have, like, 37 more hours of being benched!” 

“Screw the bench,” Donnie laughs, patting his pockets for the keys to the van, and remembering their brothers probably took it, “Ah-ha, see, Raph’s not even  _ here.  _ So, ya know, theoretically, he doesn’t have to know I’m up.”

_ “Theoretically,  _ you have a concussion,” April says, stepping into her boots, “C’mon, we’re gonna miss Charlie Brown...you  _ love _ that.” 

“Why bother  _ watching  _ The Great Pumpkin when we could  _ make  _ a great- _ er  _ pumpkin?” walking backwards to his makeshift lab, Donnie counters, and nearly trips on a rock sticking up out of the loose gravel driveway.

Mikey’s face falls deadpan, but Donnie  _ knows  _ his brother, and that he can never pass on an experiment together. Neither can April, really. 

They’re  _ both _ trying to stop him from this, but it’s definitely half-hearted, and they’ll definitely join in anyway. So Donnie doesn’t even try to plead his case on it; roping Mikey and April in with the notion of a car-sized pumpkin is not even  _ remotely  _ a challenge. 

Opening his little shed-turned-lab, Donnie takes in the lovely, almost familiar scent of machinery. It’s nothing compared to home, but it’s  _ something-  _ a patched together compilation of whatever Leo was able to salvage on his daunting trip back to the lair. 

From over his shoulders, April and Mikey peer at the average sized pumpkin sitting at Donnie’s feet. 

“Of course you’ve already got a pumpkin,” April mumbles, “Were you, like... thinking  of this before or…?”

“Oh no,” Donnie says, as a matter-of-factly, “Casey wanted to blow it up, but  _ now  _ she serves a higher purpose- forgive me, comrade Casey.” 

“God, Raph is gonna  _ kill  _ me,” Mikey whines, “But 11 year old me is in heaven.” 

Flashing Mikey a grin, Donnie scoops the pumpkin up, “Yes, yes, you are.” 

He plops it in his brother’s already anticipating arms, and starts marching his way back to the farmhouse, And Raph won’t  _ kill  _ you. He’ll just...fret,” he calls over his shoulder. 

“That’s  _ so _ much worse,” April laughs incredulously, “Why am I supporting this?” 

Mikey hefts the pumpkin up and snickers, “Yo same.” 

But they both sort of know. Seeing Donnie so  _ excited  _ about something is kind of a contagious thing, and they can’t just nip that so soon, not while he’s the most eager he’s been in the days since Raph benched him. 

“If he throws up again, I’mma have to bid y’all adieu,” April says, shaking her head at Donnie up ahead of them as he rambles about rising to power and taking over Fulton County

But she doesn’t actually mean that. She’ll stay no matter what. 

_ “Girl _ ...me and yucky regurgitated stuff do  _ not _ mix, so-” Mikey snorts, lugging the pumpkin up the porch steps, “I’m adieuing with ya.” 

And Mikey doesn’t mean it either. Because they’re all sorta stuck with each other, and nothing’s changing that. 

* * *

The kitchen table looks like it’s barely able to hold a heavy plate, let alone a slightly oversized pumpkin. It’s all old and uneven and wobbly, and it shakes when Mikey drops the pumpkin on top of it, grinning eagerly as Donnie races back into the kitchen with random ass supplies. 

But mostly, he’s got a whole lot of baking soda. 

“If I calculate this right- and I’m  _ ninety  _ percent sure I calculated this right- our baby pumpkin should be six times her size by...Monday.” 

Donnie dumps a small bag of syringes on the table, hands Mikey and April goggles, and gives the pumpkin a gentle pat. He always had this thing for adopting and acquiring emotional attachment to inanimate objects. Maybe it was easier that way, less to really lose that way. 

Mikey doesn’t question where his brother even got this many syringes from, but he is kinda interested in how to make this baby grow. It’s been...an unusually long time since he’s been able to do really obscure, probably dangerous experiments with Dee. 

He slips on his goggles, peering over to where his brother drops greenish stuff into the syringe, but stops abruptly, eyes shooting up to April’s. 

_ “Gloves,”  _ they both say in unison, which is really fun and endearing to watch; they get this weird hive brain when doing stuff like this. 

Donnie looks to Mikey, raising a brow, “We’re gonna need a killer playlist, you still got it on your phone?” 

Mikey’s eyes scrunch in determination, lips curving into a smirk, “‘Evil Science Bitch’? Or ‘Light Tinkering EDM’?”

“I think you already know,” Donnie says, his own smirk rivarling Mikey’s in mischievousness. 

_ “On _ it boss.” Mikey lightly bumps his fist against Donnie’s, already scrolling to find their playlist- a cumulative catalogue of songs he, Donnie and April put together to vibe to during unethical experimentation. 

April’s just coming back with garden gloves Raph had sewn to accommodate them a little better, and white sheets as pseudo-lab coats. 

Grinning widely, Donnie dons his sheet, adjusting his goggles, “Excellent work gang,” he says earnestly, “Now. Our ingredients. To your left- my right- we have  _ ooze _ .”

Both April and Mikey’s eyes widen from behind their goggles.

“Ohmigosh, how’d you even  _ salvage  _ that?” Mikey grips his sheet, something like stars in his eyes at the rising excitement. 

Donnie shrugs like it’s no big deal, “Meh, I always keep samples of dead ooze-squitos-” Flashing a placid smile, he extends his pointer finger “For observational purposes- and/or potential pumpkin growth.” 

“Very auspicious,” April says in a feigned posh accent,  _ “Excellent _ work, Professor.” 

Face scrunching in a smile, Donnie hands a syringe full of ooze and baking soda to April, and one to Mikey. 

“Insert at a ninety degree angle, pupils. Dispense all substances.” 

They inject the ooze into the pumpkin. The table creaks and breaks into pieces in seconds.

From their own respective places, lying on the kitchen floor, Donnie, Mikey and April raise triumphant fists. 

_ “Eureka!”  _

Breathless laughter bubbles out from the trio, the kitchen light above them swaying slightly at the woosh of air let out from the pumpkin. 

* * *

Raph doesn’t know whether to be thoroughly disappointed or thoroughly impressed at the lengths his brother goes through to do the exact  _ opposite  _ of relax. 

But he looks at Donnie, a white sheet over his shoulder and lopsided goggles on, his smile brighter than the room- and he can’t really be mad. 

And, six days later, Donnie takes pictures of April standing miniature next to a ginormous, great pumpkin, a Northampton Best Pumpkin medallion pinned to her sweater. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t forget to leave comments, kudos and keep supporting Rise!!

**Author's Note:**

> these boys can fit so much angst in them! pls leave a kudos/comment if you enjoyed!


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